


my library is an archive of longings

by NoGood_InGoodbye



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, First Meetings, If You Squint - Freeform, It's just them, Library AU, Mentions of Bellas and Jesse, That's it, alternative universe, alternative universe - library, kind of romance but not???, like once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoGood_InGoodbye/pseuds/NoGood_InGoodbye
Summary: Thin pink lips twisted into a scowl as cold blue eyes rose from her computer screen to tell off whoever dared invade her space. The growl escaped her before she could stop herself, “Fuck—”All Beca could see was red and blue and the slightest flush of pink. “fuck.”Or: Beca never met Chloe at the activities fair, Chloe is still a Bella, and libraries are the tits.





	my library is an archive of longings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey-o pitches! Sorry for leaving everyone hanging but life got me fucked, hopefully I can get my shit together enough to finish writing everything and post more soon!
> 
>  **BIG** thanks to my beta who actually did most of the ending dialogue so I don't know if I should credit her as co-author or whatever because I don't normally do this shit, but she's awesome! Read her stuff! **[FantasyCNG](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyCNG/pseuds/FantasyCNG)**
> 
> Title from Susan Sontag's "As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks" and songs from the PP movie and DJ Schmolli (WHO FUCKING MADE THE 500 Titanium MASHUP IN THE MOVIE AND WASN'T CREDITED APPARENTLY?!?!?!) who deserve all the credit and love. Here's the [Perfect Love](https://youtu.be/eTnhsYzgsew) mashup of DJ Schmolli and the [500 Titanium](https://youtu.be/Nmrg1l0gCWA) mashup that was used in the movie, though he added Don't Stop Believin' in it later oN AND FUCK ME HE'S SO GOOD!!!
> 
> Prompt: "we’ve never talked but your favorite spot in the library is right across from my favorite spot so i see you all the time and sometimes we give each other commiserating looks"
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the PP characters even if only Beca and Chloe are shown and Jesse and the Bellas are mentioned, like, once

Beca never used the library to study—mostly because she never really _studied_ —but the smell of well-loved books and aging wood sent a strange sort of calm through her system. It cleansed all other distractions and let her work on her mixes in peace. People didn’t judge her for wearing headphones in the library and she didn’t stand out while she hunched over her laptop.

After two weeks of working in the library, she’d found the perfect spot to mix and just get away from the world. In the corner of the fourth floor of the library, right next to the stageplay section, was a perfect four-seater table that wasn’t too freezing and wasn’t too hot. Barely anyone passed there and the rare theater student that did was too busy memorizing lines and finding scripts to bother her.

The view to her right was a breathtaking view of the main activities center (the DJ could even see the tree she’d mix under whenever she wasn’t up to climbing the four flights of stairs to her favorite library spot) and the view in front of her wasn’t half bad, either.

Stunning blue eyes and fiery red hair sat two tables away every single day since the brunette had started mixing there. Beca had gotten used to seeing the beautiful redhead nodding to whatever song she jammed to on her faded black earphones. She’d grown fond of the little crease between her brows as full pink lips twisted into a frown. She’d learned to shoot sympathetic smiles at the sound of soft frustrations and had even shared pitying looks with the woman on especially difficult mixing days.

They’d never talked or so much as mouthed to each other, but the brunette felt like she already knew so much about the redhead.

She knew that she loved music and books. Beca couldn’t remember a single day where she saw the redhead without her beloved earphones, bouncing and nodding along to whatever music she listened to (she looked like a pop girl, but from the way she danced to her music, it seemed a lot more like rap or hiphop than anything else). She also always had books and papers with her. Opened books, piles of papers, stacked books, and ink-filled papers were always strewn across the redhead’s table.

Halfway into the school year, she knew that the redhead loved to write and that she was right-handed. She knew that she had an amazing voice just from the way she’d hum along to her music (and so what if Beca was curious enough to take off her headphones to hear the girl? No one could prove it). She knew that she liked Disney, pop, and musicals (the combination wasn’t that odd—the redhead _screamed_ rainbows and sunshine). She knew that she snuck in candy and snacks and _always_ jumped away whenever people passed by (as if she were committing a grave sin—students have done worse things in the library). She knew that she enjoyed it when it rained, bright blue eyes brightening to become the sun the dreary clouds needed as it poured. She knew that she was reading a particularly difficult text whenever full pink lips would twist into a pout and clear blue eyes would squint in concentration.

She knew many things about the redhead—and for some strange, screwed up reason, Beca wanted to know more.

The sympathetic looks they’d shot each other on occasion just weren’t cutting it for her anymore. Beca wanted to know her name, her birthday, her favorite color (probably blue, from the shit ton of blue she’d wear and the blue pen, highlighter, and sticky notes the redhead used), her favorite animal, her family—everything. _Everything_. Beca wanted to know everything about her.

It was strange how attached she’d gotten to the girl. She always expected her to be sitting in her table whenever she arrived and waited the usual fifteen to twenty minutes on the rare occasions she arrived earlier. And now, with winter finals approaching hard and fast, Beca was worried.

The thirty minute mark had passed and the redhead was nowhere to be seen.

It was the first time since Beca started frequenting the place that the redhead had _ever_ been this late—or (and the little DJ prayed to whatever deity would listen that this wasn’t the case) _absent_. The brunette had never gone to the library and _not_ been blessed with the beauty’s presence.

Pale slender fingers twisted and slid over the smooth wooden table, steel blue eyes roaming around the buzzing library. Students were filling the old building in clumps and piles, the strongest and fiercest of procrastinators gathering in the only spot in campus where they _didn’t_ need to pay to stay that was open twenty-four-seven with stable WiFi. With only a week left before the last finals of the year, students were coming in flocks to work and study on whatever the hell it is they needed to finish and soon enough, even the abandoned little corner reserved solely for Beca Mitchell and her— _the_ gorgeous redhead was packed.

The little DJ gave up waiting for a flash of bright red after the first hour passed, turning her focus to mixing and keeping people away from her table as the day wore on. She pointedly ignored the disappointment and worry that gnawed at her stomach, steely blue eyes flittering over rising bars and synching waves. Thankfully, Beca’s “fuck off” vibes were enough to keep her table free from human contact and she was left alone the rest of the day. That is until a shadow pulled up to her table.

Thin pink lips twisted into a scowl as cold blue eyes rose from her computer screen to tell off whoever dared invade her space. The growl escaped her before she could stop herself, “Fuck—”

All Beca could see was red and blue and the slightest flush of pink. “ _fuck_.”

“Um, hi, sorry,” the redhead was breathless, words slipping past her lips in between every huff and breath she took. Her usually perfect red hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and her lightly tanned cheeks were flushed, her warm blue eyes were an even brighter, livelier shade up close than Beca’s heart could handle. And _fuck_ , her voice—that _voice_. The brunette shook herself back to reality when she noticed the girl taking a tentative step back. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, sorry—”

“No!” blue eyes widened at the sudden exclamation, pale cheeks following the redhead’s as the DJ coughed away her embarrassment—half the library staring at their corner before Beca waved them away. “Sorry, I meant, uh, you weren’t disturbing—or anything. Sorry.”

“Right,” the redhead’s smile was both cautious and amused, the flush draining from her face as her breathing returned to normal. She waved her hand at the seat opposite her. “I was just wondering if this seat’s taken.”

Cold blue eyes finally took notice of the brimming tables and bustling students all around the library and that her table was the only one occupied by one person (she’d done a damn good job of scaring everyone else off). Steely blue met warm orbs as Beca’s own blush subsided. “Sure, of course. Sorry about—that.”

“It’s fine,” full pink lips curled into a smile when the redhead realized that she wasn’t going to be pushed away. “Thank you for letting me crash at your table.”

“S’no problem,” the brunette shrugged, eyes falling back to her laptop as she put up the volume on her headphones (hoping the pounding beats would drown out her pounding heart).

Beca let her headphones hang around her neck as the redhead settled in the seat in front of her, cold blue eyes taking note of the gym bag she dropped to the floor and the half dozen books and papers she set on the table. Her eyes snapped back to her notebook once the redhead was seated, pale slender fingers tapping a jolting beat as the sound of rustling paper and thumping hardbound mixed with the sound of a playful piano and her latest attempts at learning the guitar.

The brunette was halfway to finally figuring out a first line for her chorus when one of her new favorite voices interrupted her (sure Beca had just heard the woman speak for the first time in months just a few minutes ago, but _fuck_ if that voice weren’t heaven itself).

“I’m Chloe, by the way,” cold blue eyes looked up to find a blinding smile and sparkling blue eyes (which, what the fuck? Her eyes actually _sparkled_ ). “It’s just, we’ve seen each other work here for a long time now but we’ve never actually talked.”

Pale slender fingers fiddled with her pen, Beca gulping down the lump in her throat before she managed a small smile. “Uh, yeah. Beca.”

Chloe’s smile only seemed to grow at the brunette’s awkward reply, smile turning mischievous as she leaned over her books and closer to the DJ. “So what are you always doing in this little corner of yours?”

“Um.” Pale fingers scratched the side of her nose as cold blue eyes fell back to her dimming screen. A confused, amused little smirk tilted the brunette’s lips. “I didn’t know we were doing twenty questions.”

The redhead chuckled, smile tilting impishly with her head. “We’re not, I’m just curious. But we could do that, too!”

Chloe had leaned in and whispered excitedly, as if she were sharing a secret she just couldn’t keep in. It made the brunette smile at how childish and alive the redhead looked—and it was still taking Beca some time to realize that the woman she’d been secretly checking out for the past few months was actually talking to her (Jesse called it a crush. Beca called it a sense of physical appreciation).

The little DJ replied with a quirked brow. “We’re moving pretty fast after just meeting each other less than five minutes ago.”

“Oh please,” Chloe scoffed, smirk sliding into place. “We’ve shared commiserating looks for months. We totes know each other.”

“Who even says ‘commisserating’?” Beca accused with a teasing grin and questioning brow. “Or ‘totes’.”

“Only the most aca-awesome people, of course.” Chloe winked, grin growing as she propped her chin up. “So, Beca, what do you do?”

A chuckle escaped the brunette at the straightforward, playful way the redhead got her shit done and Beca had to admire the girl’s persistence. It was both kind of strange and exhilarating to be talking to a girl she’d only ever seen from afar (as if she’d known the girl for forever but was only actually getting to know her then).

Deciding to indulge the redhead, she shrugged and let her body follow as she leaned in as well. “In general, I’m a philosophy major, first year. Specifically what I do _here_ , well, I kind of make music but not—”

“You make your own _music_?!” the redhead whisper-yelled, all too aware of where they actually were. Deep blue eyes brightened as Chloe leaned in further, grin growing as the words left her lips faster than Beca could process. “What kind of music? What instruments do you play? Wait, do you play any instruments? Is it necessary to play instruments to make music? I mean, you have to at least read sheet music, right? Or not? Is sheet music important in music making? Does it depend on what kind of music you make? It does, right? What kind of music do you make? How—”

“ _Woah_ , Chloe, _breathe_ ,” the brunette’s smile turned amused at the excitement overflowing from the redhead, her insides warming at the genuine, unabashed interest she showed for music— _her_ music. “And I didn’t understand a single word you said.”

The redhead blushed slightly, a sheepish smile flitting on to her lips before a giggle escaped the girl and she grinned again, repeating slowly. “What kind of music do you make?”

Beca shrugged, lips quirking slightly as her eyes fell to her barely-marked notebook. “Um, I mostly make remixes, but I’m trying to work on more original stuff nowadays. I don’t really have a genre just yet ‘cause I’m experimenting and shit so, uh, yeah…”

Chloe smiled softly, a strange kind of understanding and warmth emanating from the redhead. “So do you play any instruments?”

“Just the piano, but I’m learning a bit of guitar now,” cold blue rose to meet warm orbs, thin pink lips twisting into a more genuine smile at the way the redhead was looking at her. “So, Red, what do you do?”

Chloe laughed at the new nickname, leaning back in her seat as deep blue fell on the pile and mess of books and papers in front of her. “I’m a literature major, a senior. I’ve been preparing for my thesis this coming sem.”

“Which explains all the books.”

“Yeah,” the redhead chuckled, eyes rising to meet cold blue. “So, can I hear some of your music?”

“Are you really trying to procrastinate on your thesis?”

Full pink lips fell into a pout, “I’ve finished my proposal and I’m more than halfway through my second write-up. It’s just a _little_ break.”

Beca rolled her eyes at the obvious lie, but the genuine earnestness in deep blue and the hopeful little quirk of full pink lips was compelling enough for the brunette to hand over her beloved headphones and search through her files for a finished song.

The redhead beamed in reply, smooth warm fingers brushing cold pale ones as the senior giddily slipped the headphones on. The older woman nodded to the song Beca was currently working on as the brunette searched for something she wasn’t half that embarrassed to show people. With a triumphant little hum, the brunette paused the music on her mixing program and played her remix of Bulletproof and Release Me.

The DJ couldn’t hold back her smile at the sight of deep blue eyes fluttering closed as the redhead took in a deep breath beneath a growing smile (as if the only thing she could focus on was her music).

Beca had always imagined what it would be like to actually meet the girl—and she was the best kind of surprised to see that she wasn’t _anything_ like she was expecting. Sure, she was just the kind of innocent and bubbly Beca guessed she’d be (the constant smiling as she sang along to her music and the fact that she was 90% sure the snacks she’d sneak in were gummy bears were enough hints), but then she was also the blinding kind of happy and talkative and space-invading person she never thought was possible (then again, the DJ knew that she wasn’t the kind of person people warmed up to—so meeting Chloe was a nice kind of impossible). She said weird words like “aca-” and “totes” and actually _meant_ them. She was so, incredibly genuine that it warmed Beca’s heart in the strangest of ways.

Warm blue brought her back to reality when Beca realized that the redhead was staring back at her, full pink lips stretched into a grin as a steady blush dusted the brunette’s pale cheeks. Cold blue eyes fell to her screen, widening when she realized that her Perfect Love mashup was playing.

The DJ scrambled to pause it, “Shit, sorry. Sorry.”

The redhead slid the headphones off and let them hang around her neck. “What was that one? That was really, _really_ good, Becs!”

The brunette was too embarrassed to let the newfound nickname phase her. “It was nothing. A rough draft or whatever. It isn’t finished yet.”

“Are you kidding me?! It sounded aca- _awesome_!” the redhead leaned over excitedly, voice barely above a whisper as her grin grew and eyes shined as the brunette tried her best not to squirm away.

Never one to take a compliment smoothly, Beca managed a less-awkward-than-usual-but-still-really-fucking-awkward smile. “Um, thanks.”

Chloe giggled, slipping the headphones off her neck and handing it back. “How long have you been making music?”

“Around five years now,” the brunette nodded to herself, wrapping her headphones around her neck. Remembering the senior’s words earlier, the DJ smirked as cold eyes met deep blue. “How ‘bout you? How long have you been working on your thesis?”

The redhead laughed at the obvious change of topic, understanding that the brunette wasn’t one to really talk about herself. “Since the start of the sem. I’ve been researching through some of my favorite genres and styles and I’ve narrowed it down to a couple of styles I want to try.”

Beca leaned forward, her smirk sliding into a smile at the warmth the redhead spoke with. Though the brunette didn’t consider herself much of a reader, as her father was a literature professor, she grew up appreciating a few things about the written arts. “Can I read your proposal?”

“What?” deep blue eyes widened as the redhead’s brows shot up then furrowed, a confused little smile quirking her lips. “You want to read… my _thesis proposal_?”

Beca shrugged, smile growing in earnest curiosity and encouragement. “Sure. Besides, I let you listen to _my_ stuff, seems only fair that you let me read yours.”

Chloe smiled at the logic, chuckling as she shuffled through her papers to find the crumpled proposal she was using as an outline for her paper’s first draft. She straightened the sheet out with a few thorough slides before handing it over carefully, a hopeful little smile curling her lips as deep blue expectantly watched for the freshman’s reaction.

Thin pink lips offered an encouraging little smile before cold blue settled on the crumpled proposal piece in her hands. Sharp brown brows furrowed as the brunette turned all her focus to the tiredly typed words on the paper, soft hums and little nods filling the gentle air around them—mingling with the soft sound of Beca’s music playing in the background.

Now, Beca had entered Barden without a single motivation to actually finish, but that didn’t mean that the brunette was doing _bad_ in her subjects (or at least, not _all_ of them). She kind of loved her only required literature course and actually made the effort to attend it (excelling in it was a different matter. She’d rather _die_ then let her dad find out she was doing well in fucking _literature_ ), so reading over the senior’s proposal brought out a genuine little smile from the freshman.

“You want to write a bunch of short stories based on college students’ experiences?” cold blue eyes found the expectant and waiting shine of warm blue.

Deep blue lit up with the excitement of sharing something she was passionate about. “Yeah, it isn’t, like, a biography or anything but it’ll be inspired by the stories of students with different situations, majors, and colleges. Like, I’ll write about the Liberal Arts students that’s shunned by their family, or the Business student living up to their family’s expectations, the Pre-Law student who’s on scholarship and aims to make the world a better place, the supersenior Engineering student who’s drowning in student debt but wants nothing more in the world than to be a licensed engineer—you know, those people—and more.”

The smile that bloomed on the brunette’s face grew into an face-splitting grin, the redhead’s excitement and passion contagious and overwhelming. Beca handed the proposal back gently, a slight reverence in the way she handled the thin sheets. “Sounds like you’ve got your plate full here.”

Chloe grinned, sliding the papers back into her little pile of notes. “Yeah, I still need to polish the proposal and finish the first draft, but things are going pretty well. I’m really excited for it!”

“I couldn’t tell,” the sarcastic little smile sent chuckles tickling both women’s throats. As the last little laugh dwindled away, a comfortable silence enveloped both women, who returned to their respective work after another minute of warm staring.

Cold blue eyes fell back to her laptop screen just as deep blue turned back to the mess of papers strewn across the table. Neither spoke up, the not-so-subtle glances and much-closer-than-usual smiles they shot each other filling their need to speak. They worked in the warmth of each other’s company for a good hour and a half before either of them spoke up again.

“You know,” Chloe was the first to drop her pen. “You’re nothing like I expected you’d be.”

Cold blue plunged into deep, warm blue. Beca blinked dumbly, mind still hazy from her music. “Huh?”

Full pink lips curled into a soft smile. “You, Beca _whatever-your-surname-is_ —”

“Mitchell,” Beca supplied with the smallest of smiles, pen tapping absentmindedly to her racing heart.

“Beale,” Chloe replied with a beam before continuing. “You, Beca Mitchell, are nothing like I thought you’d be.”

“And what did you think I’d be like?”

“Well, at first I thought you’d be really dark and mysterious and angsty and rude—”

“Ouch.”

“You glared at a football player when he asked if he could borrow the seat you _obviously_ weren’t using.”

“My feet were resting on it. There were a billion other seats he could’ve stolen.”

“So you’re actually an ass, but you’re pretty sweet and kind of awkward but adorable—”

“I’m badass, Beale. Never adorable.”

“—and cute in your own quirky little way, too. Like, when you’re stuck on something—probably your mixes—you do this cute little pouting thing—”

“I’m not cute and I don’t pout.”

“—where your nose scrunches up just a bit and your head kind of tilts as you squint.”

Beca didn’t know how to reply to such a detailed description of her ‘thinking face’. Cold blue eyes blinked owlishly as the redhead simply beamed in response—unabashed and quite proud of herself. The little DJ blushed at the attention, squirming as she tried to think of _anything_ to divert the girl’s attention.

“Um,” the brunette coughed into her fist. “You’re not—exactly—what I thought you’d be, either.”

The senior smirked, elbows resting over her papers as she swayed even closer. “And what did _you_ think I’d be like?”

Beca chuckled, cheeks still ruddy as pale slender fingers twirled her pen and tapped on her forgotten notebook. “Well, I thought you’d be a bit more sane.”

“Hey!” Beca dodged the half-hearted punch that followed, laughing as she pulled her chair closer and closed the lid of her laptop.

“I’m kidding,” the freshman grinned, icy blue twinkling mischievously at the fond huff that left the redhead. “But you’re definitely a lot touchier than I thought you’d be.”

“I haven’t even touched you!”

“It’s in the way you move—like, you keep moving closer as if you want to hug me or something.”

“I like hugging people—it’s nice.”

“And so are you—I mean, nice, like, yeah…”

“You’re cute.”

“Shut up.”

“You are.”

“You’re ruining my reputation here, Beale.”

“What reputation?”

The teasing smirk and lilt in her voice only served to strengthen the brunette’s (half-hearted, weak, completely useless) glare. “My badass reputation, of course.”

“No one badass actually calls themselves badass.”

“Sure we do, all the time. So that people like you don’t forget and ruin it.”

“If anyone’s ruining your reputation, Becs, it’s _you_.”

“Fuck no, I’m protecting my image. _You’re_ ruining it, Red.”

“How so, Ms. Judgey?”

A pout curled Beca’s lips before she even realized it. “You called me cute. And adorable. Like, a bajillion times.”

Warm blue eyes rolled in fond exasperation, even as the redhead’s grin merely grew. “Because you are—look at yourself, you’re _pouting_.”

Instantly, the pout shifted into a scowl as an accusing finger followed childishly. “See? Ruining my reputation.”

“Cutie,” the redhead cooed teasingly, shifting closer as the brunette looked ready to retort. “Denying it only makes you seem guiltier, Becs.”

The scowl twisted back into a pout, cold blue eyes twinkling in mischievous defiance. Jaw locking as the brunette fought back a grin. “Whatever, I don’t like you anymore.”

The redhead beamed, leaning in with a teasing grin. “So you liked me before? Aw, that’s so cute!”

“Shut up,” the DJ crossed her arms, trying her best to hide the blush creeping on to her cheeks. “Also, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” Ginger brows furrowed as a frown slipped on to full pink lips.

Beca rolled her eyes, uncrossing her arms as she waved at how close the senior had moved in her seat. “That. That ‘moving closer as if you want to hug me’ thing.”

“Oh, sorry.” Chloe leaned back, pausing before deep blue met icy ones. “Actually, can I?”

“What?” Cold blue widened (in shock, confusion, and _maybe_ (definitely) hope).

“Can I hug you?” the senior worried her bottom lip, bringing cold blue eyes to follow before Beca dried her lips and met warm blue.

“You’re asking my permission for a hug?”

“Sure.” Chloe shrugged, full pink lips curving into a wicked smirk. “If that’s the only thing I can get out of you.”

Beca couldn’t hide her blush, thin pink lips spluttering for a reply. The redhead laughed at the girl’s awkwardly flustered state, warm blue twinkling as the senior winked. “I’m just kidding, Becs. You don’t have to do anything you—” Chloe’s phone vibrated on the table. “—don’t want to.”

As the brunette tried to calm her breathing the redhead checked the message on her phone and frowned, a soft sigh slipping past full pink lips before the redhead turned to her companion with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to go and help co-captain for my acapella group.” The redhead packed all her books and papers, slipping them into her gym bag before slinging it over her shoulder. “It was nice meeting you, Be—”

The redhead was enveloped in a hug before she was even fully standing. A blinding grin tilted full pink lips as the senior quickly caught on, her hug just as firm before the brunette pulled away.

The DJ’s smirk was almost a smile. “Ruining my reputation.”

Chloe giggled, holding back her squeal as she pulled the younger girl in for another hug and dropped a quick peck on her cheek. “See you soon, Becs!”

Beca stood frozen in her spot as the redhead started to skip away, a dorky grin slipping on to thin pink lips.

So Beca never used the library to study—and weeks later, neither did Chloe.

**Author's Note:**

> This started one way and ended another hahAHAHA
> 
> I swear they were supposed to get together when I first thought of writing it. Apologies if my writing seems off! This month's been crazy on me and I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things hahaha


End file.
